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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359241">Seasons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryn_sun/pseuds/aeryn_sun'>aeryn_sun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cardinal (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Total Fluff, some angst &amp; dark case related stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:20:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryn_sun/pseuds/aeryn_sun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Four seasons of John &amp; Lise. </p><p>Well, apologies my readers, but I am totally stuck on John &amp; Lise and no idea if that is going anywhere and the clusterfuck that is my job has kept me busy. But this is kind of a continuation of John &amp; Lise - I've been working on this for a while and was going to finish it before posting, but figured what the heck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Cardinal &amp; Lise Delorme, John Cardinal/Lise Delorme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By spring, John and Lise had just begun settling into some kind of routine. As much as their jobs allowed, at any rate. They would call each other every couple of days, usually in the evening. Sometimes one of them would text, very briefly only. “Sorry, can’t tonight!” John had called once when Lise had gotten a pizza delivered and somehow that had become their time – to call when they were having dinner, because that was about the only reliable time that worked for either of them as whatever case they were working on would occasionally take them working late into the night. But they always had to take at least a quick break to grab something to eat and catch up with each other. </p><p>They would arrange the next time they would see each other and who was coming up or down, talk about how they were feeling which would often end up with them discussing work and enjoying the moments that allowed their minds to work in tandem as they were sharing their thoughts on a particular case. John would drive down to Toronto more often than she would come up. When his caseload allowed, he would often drive down, leaving early on Friday – and occasionally even on a Thursday and make his way back up on Sunday. He took time to spend time with Kelly, who seemed more carefree as her father had become calmer and happier… and less dark. </p><p>Somehow it was always bitterly cold in Toronto and snowing more often than not, overcast or foggy.  The enjoyed their time together, made an effort to go out, but more often than not, they would stay in, John cooking dinners and Lise not complaining, allowing her to take care of things at work. Lise was often wound tight, jumping him the minute she had him to herself, the sex passionate and quick, more so when he hadn’t managed to come down a weekend or two or when she was particularly wound up or riled up from work. What was important was that they were spending time together, got to see each other, spend nights together and waking up to each other. But it was never quite like when Lise managed to come up. In Toronto, she was often knee-deep in work, mind occupied and frazzled and they would talk about her cases or her colleagues. </p><p>But when she managed to drive up, somehow passing through the countryside of lakes and forests in the changing season, with snow melting and days growing longer and the light growing stronger, a calm settled over her and her weekends up North were filled with a pleasant tranquility. Somehow it felt almost like a vacation, with the clear crisp skies over the lake – it was still cold, but somehow the sun was shining and they often spent their days outdoors, walking hand in hand, going out to see the land he’d bought or just walking in the forest or by a lakeside.  </p><p>She’d somehow managed to accumulate a lot of things at his apartment, starting with a toothbrush soon followed by her essentials and cosmetics then clothing and eventually starting to buy household items she was missing. A cozy blanket for the couch. Her favorite tea. Books she’d been meaning to read. Sunday mornings were a lazy, drawn out affair of waking up to each other and slow and satisfying lovemaking and late breakfasts that John would occasionally serve in bed. </p><p>A bed that Lise had insisted he needed to buy after he’d continuously complained about the contraption that had come with the furnished apartment, giving him a terrible backache and making him sleep poorly. So they had spent a Saturday trying out beds, picking out a new large (and extra long), comfortable bed with a gorgeous oak frame and somehow, once it had been delivered, John’s nightmares had ceased. He couldn’t say whether it had been the bed or the sense of peace Lise had brought into his life and the way his grey apartment had somehow turned into more of a home, their home, with everything that had somehow been left behind whenever she went back to Toronto and her stuff taking up more and more space in what became their bathroom cabinet, their kitchen, her drawers and his heart.</p><p>Cardinal had never commented on it, but he wouldn‘t have been the detective he was if he hadn‘t noticed - but he was, when he was being honest, enjoying both of these very different sides of Lise. The passionate, driven, intense, intelligent one that he had fallen in love with, the one he couldn‘t imagine no longer at his side. And what guy in his right mind didn‘t enjoy a good, intensely hot fuck. And it always seemed to work, working off her energy and then sleeping peacefully through the night. </p><p>But he enjoyed getting to know the other Lise, the one he had barely known before. He’d known she had tremendous capacity for empathy and a depth of emotion that matched his own, but her tender, caring, soft side still caught him by surprise - the way he heard her sing in the shower, watched her as she read a book curled into him on the couch with a cup of tea or how she would happily chop and dice and cook for hours, stealing kisses or running her hands through his hair or just a warm touch to his shoulder, his neck or his arm as he was drawing up more detailed constructions plans for the cabin. And he certainly enjoyed the sighs and her little sounds of pleasure when she was happy take it slow and gentle and her displays of sheer affection for him making him feel overwhelmed with the love he‘d started to feel for this Lise, too.</p><p>Lise had been quickly absorbed by her new job, complaining about her new DS (and missing Dyson, dearly) and the number of cases she was juggling. She was trying to get into some exercise routine and had joined a gym, as with her erratic schedule, she couldn’t keep up with a soccer team or a boxing club. She and Kelly had also somehow ended up spending time as Kelly had given her a tour of the best places (mostly food-related, as their palates matched better than their tastes in music or entertainment) in Toronto in exchange for relationship advice about her latest love interest – until that got serious and time spent together had become more erratic and unpredictable. She was settling in, but a part of her was always longing for those warm hours in Algonquin Bay. </p><p>Cardinal’s homicide had taken weeks to solve, with the case leading nowhere until a guy had showed up in the ER with similar injuries. It had been an off-handed comment by Lise about the dog hair found on the body that finally let to an underground dog fight club that had not stopped at dogs fighting dogs. When they weren’t talking cases, John would often talk about the cottage – he’d made an offer on a piece of land in February and it had taken the bank and him a few weeks to get all that sorted. He had finally found a buyer for the house, although both Lise and Kelly had complained about him selling it – Lise not liking the kitchen in the apartment (“Too small! No one can cook in this!”) and Kelly sad about losing her childhood home, as much as it also held terrible memories. When he wasn’t talking about a case, or the land or the bank, he had started talking about foundations and lumber and building materials and the contractors he was planning to hire. </p><p>What he didn’t talk about though, was retirement, although it was weighing heavily on his mind. Until one day, he did. She’d closed a major case of a drug operation gone bad, making the arrest late Thursday and wrapping up the paperwork Friday – she’d called around lunch to tell him she would be able to take off early and drive up. She ran into little traffic and the roads were clear and arrived early enough to enjoy the warmth of the spring sun and he’d been able to join her and as they were cooking dinner (a stew, her grandmother’s recipe) in comfortable silence (she talked a lot less here than in Toronto, where she was always firing on all cylinders).</p><p>“Lise?” He interrupted the comfortable silence. </p><p>“Yeah?” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss.</p><p>“I think it’s time for me to retire.” </p><p>She was startled and had not anticipated this turn in conversation.  She fell silent for a moment. “Are you sure?” she asked. </p><p>“I think so. Yeah.” She didn’t know what to say. “So I can start with the cabin.” </p><p>“OK.” </p><p>“It’s not the same without you, you know.” She was still silent, her mind going a mile a minute.  “Hey.” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, searching her eyes. “Hey.” He repeated, drawing her into him. “You OK?” he whispered in her hair. </p><p>“Yeah.” She breathed out. “Just … surprised, I guess.” She mumbled into his shirt.</p><p>“Kelly was really worried. With our last case. And I’ve been thinking about it before … before Catherine passed.”</p><p>“OK.”</p><p>“Honey, you’re starting to worry me a little.” He said, holding her a little from him so he could look at her face. </p><p>“Sorry. Just … a lot to process.”</p><p>“Why?” He asked, gently stroking her hair. </p><p>“I … just… what does it mean for us?” She finally said, not meeting his eyes. </p><p>“Well, I kind of figured it would make things easier. I could come see you more. I mean, with both of us working and busy with cases… you know how it can get.”</p><p>“Oh.” Her relief was tangible. “OK” She said, with more conviction this time.</p><p>“Sorry, I should have talked to you about it before. I guess it’s been on my mind for such a long time, I didn’t really think about how you felt about it.”</p><p>"It’s fine … I just... it’s hard to imagine, somehow. I’ve always known you like this. Detective John Cardinal.”</p><p>“Well, I’m still going to be John Cardinal. Perfect chef. Perfect boyfriend…”</p><p>“First of all … boyfriend?!” And there it was. He’d managed to make her smile. </p><p>“What, I haven’t swept you off your feet with my boyish charms?”</p><p>And now he had made her laugh, properly. “I think you’re going to need to come up with something better. And we both know French Canadians make better chefs.”</p><p>“Partner, then. Partner in crime? No? Partner in life adventures?”</p><p>“Getting warmer there, partner.” She said, standing on her toes to kiss him.</p><p>*****</p><p>Later on, they were getting ready for bed and Lise’s worried reaction was still on John’s mind. She was settled in to his side, but her mind still didn’t seem as calm as it usually did when she was up North.  He had been musing why he hadn’t talked to her about his plans sooner and he was still taken aback by the vulnerability in her response. </p><p>„I love you, Lise. Don‘t ever doubt that.“</p><p>„I love you too.“ She said, without thinking. </p><p>„Although I do wonder what you want with an old geezer like me.“</p><p>„Maybe I‘m just a black widow after your money.“</p><p>„What money?“</p><p>„Exactly. Must love you for your boyish charms, then.“</p><p>Despite the joking tone, there was a heaviness to their exchange, smiles not quite reaching their eyes. </p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner.”</p><p>“It’s OK.”</p><p>“No. I … should have. I guess I’m not really used to involving someone else in my decisions… and maybe I was a little worried you’d … realize just … how old I am.”</p><p>“Thank you… but we really do have to get better at this talking thing if we want this to work.”</p><p>“You’re right… and I do. So … talking … how do you feel about me retiring?”</p><p>“I … I don’t know. I just … it’s not about retiring, I think… I wish I could stay. I wish I didn’t have to go back.”</p><p>He kissed her, gingerly. “I’ll be down soon. And I could spend more time with you if I retire.”</p><p>“I know … but I miss you. I miss working with you. And somehow, the thought of you retiring … it makes me feel like I’m losing you. And maybe, I’m a little worried what will be left between us when that connection is gone.”</p><p>“Honestly, I don’t know if I can retire, what it will be like. And the thought that somehow, I won’t completely lose connection to that world through you has been … comforting. But it will be an adjustment, for both of us, I guess.”</p><p>“Mhhm, yeah.”</p><p>“So… is that … an OK?”</p><p>“How … how soon were you thinking?”</p><p>“Now … but … if you need more time?”</p><p>“I … think I  might need a moment to process. It’s just … we’ve only just started figuring things out between us. Aren’t you … worried it will … change things?”</p><p>“I hadn’t really thought about that. I … I’ve been married for 30 years. After Catherine died, moving on had seemed impossible. But you were always there. You’ve always been good for me. So… this is kind of it, for me. There is no figuring “us” out – well, maybe the how, but not that I want you in my life.”</p><p>When she didn’t reply, John leaned up on his elbow, to better see her face, her reaction, only to realize her eyes had a sheen of unshed tears. </p><p>“Honey, what is it?” He asked gently. </p><p>“You’re it for me, too.” She replied, choked up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Well, this turned out smuttier than I thought it would.</p><p>Somehow, Lise is always sobbing ☺️ But I just like that idea - that she‘s so super strong and stoic and doesn‘t usually let her vulnerable side show. But with John - she feels safe to do so, even when her first instinct is still to deal with stuff on her own. ☺️</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sweltering heat of summer and the impending beginning of Cardinal’s retirement had put their world’s upside down. Delorme had somehow managed to get on her DS’s bad side by point out the obvious (that he was, in fact, an incompetent idiot) and had used a few choice French swear words. And she was cranky. She was cranky at everyone and everything. She was high strung and when Cardinal suggested they take a vacation, it had seemed like a good idea. They’d put in for time off at the same time and had started discussing what they wanted to do.</p><p>Which, as it turned out, wasn’t a good idea, at all. The idea of taking a break, maybe even going somewhere abroad had initially appealed to the both of them. But the problems started arising when they were trying to agree on a destination. Apparently, Delorme’s idea of relaxation was a beach and drinks with umbrellas and spending the day with adrenaline-inducing sports activities that made her not think about work. Cardinal, on the other hand, had something quieter in mind. Maybe a city trip (“In SUMMER, are you insane?” she had yelled), some culture and museums (“They have air-conditioning!” he had replied, calmly, which did absolutely nothing to cool her down.).</p><p>As it turned out, it had led to their first proper fight and the tensions had dragged on for weeks, where Delorme was stewing and mad and Cardinal tried to be reasonable, but was also increasingly frustrated at just how <em>stubborn</em> she could be and that surely, they were going to be able to compromise on something that appealed to them both. He was not so lucky. The more reasonable the compromises were that he had tried to suggest, the angrier she seemed to get. Until it finally occurred to him that maybe this wasn’t about the vacation at all.</p><p>It was when he suggested that they table the idea for the time being (“I don’t want to fight about this, Lise.”) that he finally realized he’d apparently completely missed the signs, too distracted by the forms and decisions he had to make for his impending retirement. Because instead of launching into an argument yet again, she’d stilled … and started crying. And he’d suddenly realized that she’d avoided coming up the last couple of weekends which made their fight even more tense, over phone calls and short messages. She, in fact, had avoided him altogether, had avoided physical contact and had actually tried getting out of this weekend, too, if he had not decided to go down to see her instead, to which she finally couldn’t really say no.</p><p>He’d chalked that off to them fighting … but when Lise got fired up, she got <em>fired</em> up that other way, too and her getting mad was usually her getting very aroused and eventually very horny as well. And when he’d finally realized that, he finally started figuring out that the fighting was maybe not the cause of anything, but was actually the result of something else entirely.</p><p>So he gathered her in his arms, pulled her close, kissing her hair. “Hey. What’s wrong?”</p><p>She’d just continued sobbing into his shirt, unable to get a word out under her shaky sobs.</p><p>“Is this about retiring again? I thought we’d talked about that.”</p><p>He could barely understand her, but it sounded like a no, but couldn’t be sure if she meant it wasn’t the retiring or no, they hadn’t talked about it enough.</p><p>“I don’t know.” She sobbed.</p><p>“Honey, what’s going on? Is it work?”</p><p>“Yes. No. I don’t know.”</p><p>“Hon, you’re not making a lot of sense right now.”</p><p>“I didn’t know how to tell you.”</p><p>“Tell me what, Lise?”</p><p>“I was … late.”</p><p>And “O” formed on John’s lips. “Are you… are we?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“OK. And you’re … upset because …”</p><p>“I don’t know, OK. I don’t know!” She’d started getting riled up again, but he almost preferred this to seeing her crestfallen. “It was just the stress at work, and you were so busy sorting out your retirement… and I … I didn’t know what to think. I don’t know what to think, OK?”</p><p>He put his arms more firmly around her, holding her close, despite his damp shirt and the warmth she was giving off.</p><p>“Hey. Hey.” He said soothingly and she did calm down, though still breathing heavily.</p><p>“So, is this something we should talk about honey? I mean, if that’s something you might want…” he trailed off and gave her a reassuring, lopsided smile.</p><p>“I honestly don’t know, John. It caught me so off guard … and I was completely hormonal…”</p><p>He chuckled.</p><p>“Not funny, John!” She said, accent heavy, giving him a gentle shove. “I get some pretty bad PMS lately.”</p><p>“Sorry …” He said, still smiling, but turning serious. “But if that’s something you want to think about… I mean, I am retiring … but on the other hand I’d have lots of time on my hands …”</p><p>“I don’t know … it just never seemed like the right time … or the right guy. And now …”</p><p>“And now?”</p><p>“Well, the time isn’t great. But you’re a great Dad, John. But you also have a daughter that’s old enough to give you grandkids.”</p><p>“She’s not even seeing anyone!”</p><p>“Well … “</p><p>“What? Is there something I should know about?”</p><p>“I guess she didn’t want to introduce him until she knew it was serious.”</p><p>“But you knew??”</p><p>She shrugged in response. “Girl talk …”</p><p>“I see… anyway, this is not about Kelly. It’s about you. What you want.”</p><p>“What about what you want?”</p><p>"I’m not getting any younger … but life is too short. I want you in my life and I want you to be happy, Lise.”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’d just never given it any thought.”</p><p>“Give it some time, honey. Think about it and see how you feel in a couple of months.”</p><p>“Yeah...” She trailed off and was quiet for a moment. “Where would we even live?”</p><p>“Is maybe a part of this about Toronto?” He replied, starting to play with the waves of hair framing her face.</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>“You’re not … happy?” John phrased the statement carefully, making it sound like a question, but it wasn’t really one.</p><p>“I don’t know what I expected. Maybe I just miss working with you. The team. The DS. It’s just … different. And the back and forth between here and there …”</p><p>“Well, I will have more time to come down soon … and could come down full time for winter. But if you’re having second thoughts …”</p><p>“Maybe … I don’t know.”</p><p>“Just think about it. Talk about it… Dyson will be looking for a replacement for me soon enough, but I’m sure she’d make room for you if you change your mind about Toronto.”</p><p>“I know. Don’t you think I’ve thought about this?”</p><p>“Give it some time, love. You don’t need to decide anything right now. Dyson would take you back in a heartbeat, now or later.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Her lips curled into a smile. “We should, however, decide what we’re going to do for our time off.”</p><p>“That we should.” He said, wiggling his ears. “Look, whatever you want is fine. You could use … some unwinding.” He said with a twinkle in his eye and she rolled her eyes at him.</p><p>“Unwinding, huh?” She said, drawing him down for a kiss. “Think you could help with that?”</p><p>“Definitely. Yes.” He said between kissing her. And Lise, not being one to play coy, grabbed his hands and put them firmly on her ass.</p><p>“Bedroom. Now.” Her accent thick. </p><p>“Yes, Ma’am.” John mocked, but picked her up regardless as she wound her legs around his hips as he carried her off to the bedroom.</p><p>He set her down on the edge of the bed and as he started unbuttoning his shirt, she was already working his pants off with nimble fingers. He stepped out of his pants, ending up completely naked in front of her, half hard and looming ridiculously tall over her.</p><p>‚You‘re overdressed, love.‘ He joked, smiling down at her.</p><p>She leaned back, scooting back on the bed, throwing an arm behind her head so she could look at him more comfortably. ‚Too busy enjoying the view.‘ She replied, biting her lower lip and her eyes darkening, sprawling out in front of him with her legs falling open, inviting him to join her.</p><p>He started bending over, kneeling between her legs. He put his hands around her ankles and sliding them up her naked legs, firmly, his large hands almost reaching around them, eliciting goosebumps wherever his rough skin grazed hers. As he passed her knees, hitting a sensitive spot, she arched her back towards him, raising her hips and his hands quickly slipped under her dress, up to her hips. His fingers teased and played with the outline of her panties, fingers splayed over her hips and her body once again reacting to his soft touch, arching towards him as strangled moan escaped her. And he took the opportunity and slid her panties down her legs and peppered wet kisses up the insides of her leg on his way back up.</p><p>Knowing what was on his mind, she reached down, touching his face and the rough stubble and urged him up. ‚I need to feel you, your skin.‘</p><p>‚Mmkay‘ he mumbled and moved up, tugging her dress up and over her head. She‘d taken a shower earlier, after work and had just thrown on a light dress and panties, no bra. John grew harder seeing her naked, breasts full and taut, and settled between her legs, rubbing himself against her. One of his large hands cupping her breast, but he felt her wincing and looked up into her eyes.</p><p>‚They‘re ... sore.‘</p><p>He reached up and cupped her face instead, kissing her lips and feeling her respond and open her mouth to him. And her need to feel him was almost overstimulated when she felt his warm tongue probe hers deeply, the coarse hair on his chest rubbing against her overly sensitive nipples, the warmth of his belly against hers, the pressure of his hard cock against her mound and the way his warm hairy thighs felt against the soft insides of hers.</p><p>He gave her a moment to catch her breath and she arched against him, her arms engulfing him, drawing him closer, not leaving an inch of air between their bodies. He shifted slightly, rubbing his hard length against her leg now, reaching between them, his warm fingers touching her softly.</p><p>‚This OK?‘ He asked breathily against her lips and she nodded, biting her lips, a gasp forming on them. And he kissed her again, his tongue entering her mouth again, plundering hers as he slipped his fingers between her folds, rubbing her clit, carefully at first, applying more pressure when he felt her respond. Her breast arching against his arm, he felt her lower body lift off the bed, pressing herself against him, against all of him and he slipped a long, large finger inside her wet opening as his tongue drove deep inside her mouth. He felt her clamp down when he added a second finger, stretching her, her lips falling from his, begging ‚I need you.‘ breathing heavily against his face.</p><p>‚I won‘t last long.‘ he chocked  against her collarbone, his stubble scratching against her skin. Her hips responded and her hands grabbed his ass, pushing him against her core. His fingers slipping out, guiding his cock inside of her, trying to resume the pressure on her clit as he drove into her, hard and fast. She was slick with sweat, meeting him stroke for stroke still holding onto him tightly and he couldn’t hold back when he felt her start to quiver under him, spilling into her. Both breathing heavily and hot, he’d shifted to move his weight off of, but she tightened her hold on him, stroking his back “Pas encore, mon coeur.” Not yet, my love. Eventually, she’d let him shift his weight a little to the side, but had reclaimed him immediately, throwing a sticky, sweat slicked leg over his.</p><p>John had been in the middle of starting dinner when their conversation had interrupted his preparations and as they were now lying in bed, sated and calmer, Lise’s stomach started grumbling.</p><p>“Don’t move.” he said, put on his boxer briefs and sauntered off to the kitchen and grabbed some wine and glasses and cheese, crackers, a few nuts and some fruit he’d picked up that had been meant for breakfast. It was too hot for a cooked meal anyway and he brought the impromptu cheese platter back to the bedroom on a tray. Lise had not moved and only pulled the linen up to cover herself.</p><p>“Mmm. This is why I keep you around.” She said smiling and started nibbling on the cheese. “Are you sure you don’t have some French Canadian ancestry in you?”</p><p>“Happy to be at your service.” He replied jokingly.</p><p>She tried to sneak a kiss without causing too much of a dip in the mattress to tip the tray and its contents over and only just succeeded with a brush of her lips before she had to steady the wine glasses and settled back on her elbow.</p><p>“So, I’ve been thinking.” She started.</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“The vacation.”</p><p>“Have you decided what you want?”</p><p>“I was thinking … maybe we don’t have to go anywhere. We could stay in Algonquin Bay. Start on the cabin. It will be cooler up here than down in Toronto… or most places.”</p><p>“That sounds nice.” And a slow smile spread over his face.</p><p>And that’s what they ended up doing and it worked out perfectly for the both of them. It turned out that digging up the foundation and wielding a chainsaw and lugging around logs was just what Lise needed to get her mind off work and unwind and John kept the cooler well stocked with Gin &amp; Tonics for her and beers for himself. And John enjoyed the quiet concentration of woodworking and the occasional quiet fishing hours and watching his red haired ninja go at it with the passion and energy he loved about her so much… and the hot little lumberjack was really doing it for him.</p><p>When she’d worked up enough of a sweat and the mid-afternoons brought the warmest temperatures, she would drag him off to the lake and drag him inside for a quick cool off. But sometimes, she would just take off her clothes and go skinny dipping … and that didn’t help cooling off at all.</p><p>He was happy when he realized that he’d imagined building this cabin by himself, but instead had found himself a partner who shared and delighted in the experience as much as he did. They spent some nights camping out on the land he’d bought, watching the embers of the fire, making love in their tent and he made coffee and bacon and eggs on his little gas camping stove in the morning. And little by little, their cabin grew and when their sore muscles needed a break, they spent the day on the lake with the boat or hiking up trails John had remembered.</p><p>The cabin was still in the beginning stages when their vacation time was up, but Lise was relaxed and her skin sunkissed. When she found it hard to part and return to Toronto, heart heavy on the drive back, she’d realized how <em>happy</em> they had both been. How easy they had found each other’s company, with their jobs and cases far away. And she came up the weekend after and the one after that and by the time John’s retirement party had come around by late August, she’d come to spend every free minute helping to build their cabin and as the foundation of the cabin grew, she’d found a sense of peace and quiet in her life and with John beside her. She had all but forgotten how it had all started – their life <em>together</em>, with her leaving that had set a domino effect in motion. And when she saw her former colleagues again at the Algonquin Bay Police Station, she did have a chat with Dyson in a quiet moment at the party, just in case.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Uhm, I don’t know how I went from happy domestic to light smutty angst to super angsty dark  in three chapters, but this one probably needs a dark themes warning for the case (involving child abduction / trafficking) and has somewhat more detailed case descriptions (though nothing out of character for the show). I blame the song that played at the end of S4 - Asaf Avidan's "Between these hands". I watched ep 5 and 6 of S4 again and that apparently took me down some dark writing tunnel.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fall had arrived quickly. Somehow between Cardinal busy with their Cabin and Lise catching an intense case of multiple homicides that had connections across the border, they barely blinked and September had arrived. They did see each other more – Cardinal made the trip down to Toronto often, especially when the weather forecast was predicting cold and rainy days and he couldn’t really work on the cabin anyway. He was happy to escape down to the city for a few days, spending more time with Kelly who eventually introduced them to <em>Jonah</em> over dinner.</p><p> </p><p>The days had started growing shorter and cooler and the leaves had started to change, with the first yellows appearing in Algonquin Bay, and later on in Toronto. And Lise had started to snuggle up to John during the night, when she’d been complaining about the heat all summer. John tended to sleep sprawled out on his back, giving Lise ample space to drape her limbs all over him and tangle them with his during the night.  Neither the work situation nor the baby elephant in the room had come up in conversation again – their life, Lise’s especially, had just been too busy and she was grateful for the quiet and silent support that John had offered, whether it was laundry, shopping, cleaning or just his company.</p><p> </p><p>She’d been unusually tight-lipped about the case, a gag order from the chief of police, brows furrowed in concentration, teeth gritted in frustration. One night, she had come home late, straight from pathology. He’d kept dinner warm, but she’d arrived tired and pale and hadn’t been hungry. She was heading straight for the shower and John thought he’d heard crying. She didn’t emerge from the warm and steamy bathroom for a long time and when she did, she crawled straight into bed.</p><p> </p><p>John had heard the bathroom door open and close and found her curled into a ball in their bed. He sat down on the edge, reaching out to her, stroking her hair gently, when she tugged on his hand and it was all it took for him to slip in next to her, gathering her much smaller frame in his arms. She’d tucked her head into his shoulder and curled into him as if she was freezing from within and clung to him like her life depended on it. She didn’t speak or cry or made any other sound, but he sensed the case gnawing at her, body tense and mind exhausted and overwhelmed. Her breathing had eventually slowed and calmed and she’d fallen into a restless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>John startled awake when she suddenly started trashing in his arms, a strangled cry followed by a string of French words incomprehensible to Cardinal. “Ssshhh Hey. It’s just a dream” he murmured into her hair. And as John held her, she started sobbing and the past weeks of investigations and a complete lack of leads started spilling out of her. “We found another one. Another kid, barely twelve.” Between the tears of anger and frustration and pain, she recounted the days events that had started early, with her being called to a crime scene well before 6am.</p><p> </p><p>The body of a boy, no older than twelve, had been found under an overpass just outside Orillia on Highway 11. It was firmly within OPD territory, but when they had found the body mutilated and with obvious similarities to another boy that had washed up on the shores of Lake Ontario near the Marina in Toronto almost two months ago, they had called in the Toronto Police. Lise had attended the autopsy, but had found herself outside, hurling and pale, within minutes of it starting.</p><p> </p><p>It had been the fourth body of a pre-pubescent boy found within less than two months. The first one had been the one to wash up in Toronto. The second on the Eastern shore of Lake Nipissing, just off Highway 11. The third had been found in the US near Buffalo, washed up on the shores of Lake Erie. And now the fourth. The bodies were all naked, mutilated, with extensive injuries, dumped in or near water. All Latino, maybe Mexican. They couldn’t ID a single one of them, none of them reported missing. They suspected child trafficking, but there was not a shred of evidence other than the small bodies and the marks of violence they carried and the horrors they had endured.</p><p> </p><p>Lise had fallen silent as John’s heart had grown heavy as she’d gone through how frustratingly little they knew. She’d finally looked up to him, her amber eyes clouded over and heavy. And she found his grey ones mirroring what she felt, found the understanding she’ desperately needed. “I need you. <em>They</em> need you.” She finally said.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” He murmured, pressing his lips to her cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“Commanda said he might be able to bring you in as a special consultant for OPD. He merely nodded, kissing her hair and sharing the weight she’d been carrying. She’d slept poorly, despite finally having shared what had been weighing heavily on her mind. When he woke up early the next morning, she had already left, leaving a note on the kitchen table. Commanda had called later in the morning to make arrangements and he’d joined her at the precinct in the early afternoon.</p><p> </p><p>They had sifted through the crime scene photos, tacked the dump sites on the map and had sifted through the evidence. The bodies had been dumped in three different jurisdictions and compiling all the evidence had been time-consuming and involved cutting through a lot of red tape. They all had the same ligature marks, probably from thick rope. All but one had suffocated, only the first one had been alive when he had been dumped in the water and had drowned. They  were all emaciated, undernourished, their frail bodies covered in scars and hematomas, X-rays showing older, healed fractures. This was not just the work of heartless traffickers, but of at least one very sadistic killer.</p><p> </p><p>John didn’t leave for Algonquin Bay again. They tried not to bring the case home with them. Their days were long as the days grew shorter and they were home after dark, night after night. Lise was quiet and withdrawn, the boys’ faces haunting her, but she sought out John, resting in his presence whenever she could. Whether she was threading her fingers through his in the car after another fruitless interview, heart and mind heavy, or resting her hand over his heart at night, feeling and listening to the steady beat of his heart until she fell into a restless sleep, interrupted by nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>Their lovemaking had become more sporadic, but it had also become a ritual, a shield against the cruelty of the world, slow and tender, their bodies and hearts and minds coming together as one. Lise, starved for the warmth and texture of his skin, could never seem to get close enough, covering herself in the feeling of him, solid and strong, sharing with him the depth of their connection.</p><p> </p><p>She’d grown thinner, cheeks hollow and he made an effort to cook her favorite foods, hoping to get her to eat more. By the time Thanksgiving had come around mid-October, they had run out of leads to follow. They had taken the Thanksgiving weekend and had gone up to Algonquin Bay where the leaves had already fully changed and the morning mist settled over the lake. Kelly had joined them and had been the one to cook, while John and Lise were somber and quiet. But it was nice and familiar, a new tradition started and it had felt like <em>family</em>. A moment of quiet relief and comfort after gruesome and harrowing weeks that had turned up nothing.</p><p> </p><p>After dinner, they were sitting in the living room and had watched a movie. They’d made the first fire in the fireplace that fall. Kelly had eventually retired to the guest bedroom, leaving them sitting on the couch and Lise had moved closer, seeking out his warmth once again as the fire had turned to embers, leaning in to his side, his arm coming around her and drawing her closer. She’d threaded her fingers through his, feeling the length of his digits, tracing them with her own, and let go of a heavy breath she’d been holding.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re gonna get him, Lise.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” She said, trailing off. “I’m just so tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, honey. I am too.”</p><p> </p><p>“I feel like we’re just waiting for another body.”</p><p> </p><p>His pained expression was all the answer she needed. He <em>understood</em>. He knew, like her, that with where they stood with their investigation, they’d hit a dead end and as horrifying as the idea was, another body, and with it, maybe a tiny piece of evidence that might finally break the case open, might be the only chance they had of <em>stopping this.</em></p><p> </p><p>“I was … just thinking …”</p><p> </p><p>He gave her hand a light squeeze, a silent encouragement to continue.</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t do this without you.”</p><p> </p><p>He brought up their joined hands, pressing a soft kiss to hers.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so thankful for what we have.” She continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” He murmured quietly and they fell silent again.</p><p> </p><p>‚John?‘</p><p> </p><p>‚Yeah?‘</p><p> </p><p>‚Would you ... consider ... remarrying?‘</p><p> </p><p>Her question had come out of nowhere. And he was taken aback. But it only took him a moment to recover, sitting up and shifting, turning towards her, his hand coming up to caress her face, kissing her, briefly and tenderly, before answering “If you’ll have me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, John. I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me the way you do. I don’t want a white dress or a party or a priest, but <em>out there</em>, I just want a small piece of that happiness with me. A reminder of the good. I don’t want to waste another minute of the time we have together. Will you marry me, John?” She asked, earnestly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Yes. Yes, Lise Delorme, I would very much like to marry you.” He replied with certainty. “But at least let me buy you a ring.” He said, smiling and kissing her.</p><p> </p><p>“Bon!” She replied. “And then we’re going to get this asshole. And then I’m coming home. After this. I’m coming home.” She said with determination.</p><p> </p><p>And so they got married. Lise was adamant about the no dress, no party and no priest, but John did manage to drag her to a jeweler’s to buy their rings. Plain and simple, when their history and the depth of their connection was anything but. And they went down to City Hall, with Jerry and Kelly as their witnesses, a week after Thanksgiving. And they went to their unfinished cabin and John carried her over the threshold. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(But I apparently also can't write dark angst without sprinkling it with total sap. Sorry, not sorry. So the final chapter will have the case wrap up.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is going with the book background on Lise where both her parents are no longer alive and maybe the TV version where neither of John’s parents make an appearance. And you know what I think is missing in fics? Jerry. I love Jerry. And I love the Jerry and Lise friendship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a beautiful fall with golden sun and yellow and red leaves, winter had arrived suddenly and brought cold and dark nights along with first heavy rain and then sleet. The case having come to a standstill with no new evidence and the little leads they had had not turned up anything useful. It had been on one of those cold and dark nights, the roads slick and treacherous, when Lise had made her way up to Algonquin Bay late on Friday after a long shift, tired and forced to drive slowly. John had gone up to settle some administrative things for their cottage and she’d been eager to join him, wanting to get away from the city noise for a weekend. Still on the highway, the low gas light came on and she groaned inwardly, looking forward to a hot bath.</p><p> </p><p>So instead of going straight to John’s (theirs, she corrected herself), just off the exit she signaled and made a turn for the gas station. She’d just filled up her tank when she noticed a second, familiar car turning up. Jerry had pulled into the pump next to her.</p><p> </p><p>“Jerry, hey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lise – good to see you. How are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. Tired, it’s been a long day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Heard about you and John – congrats. About damn time.“</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. It just … kinda happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re good for him, Delorme. He’s looking well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, retirement has been good for him - I think he’s being the one that’s good for me these days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you guys up for the weekend?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, John needed to go to the bank and figured it would be nice to get out of the city for a weekend.”</p><p> </p><p>“Any news on the trafficking case?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope. Nothing new the last seven weeks. We’ve been running down every lead. Zilch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damn. I hope we catch the bastard.” Jerry had meanwhile jiggled the lid of the gas tank open and had started filling up his car.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, did you hear. DS is retiring in January. If that’s something you might be interested in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah? Thanks … yeah … might think about it. Been thinking about coming home.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should. OPP could use a Sergeant like you.” She gave him a weary smile in response. “You guys coming up here for the holidays?”</p><p> </p><p>“We might. We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know when or if I get off yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you come up here, we’d love to have you over for dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds great Jerry. It would be nice to catch up. We’ll let you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Night Lise. Give John my best.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks Jerry. Will do. Drive safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“You too.”</p><p> </p><p>It was past midnight when Lise finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. There was no light coming from the window facing the lot and she’d assumed John had gone to bed already. But he’d been waiting up, reading on the couch and had just tossed his glasses off to rest his eyes for a minute … and then the keys in the lock had startled him awake. He sat up on the couch, hair disheveled and sticking up more so than usual. She’d been trying to be quiet and John got up to greet her by the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Didn’t think you were still up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. I thought it would be rude not to wait up for my wife.”</p><p> </p><p>She chuckled, walking up to him and kissing him thoroughly. “Hi.” She replied, nuzzling his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” He replied. “Missed you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can tell.” She smirked, pressing herself against the bulge forming in his Flannel pants. “I do need a shower first, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. Well I <em>could</em> help with that.” He said, but it was the searing kiss he initiated that seemed to convince her and she playfully grabbed his buttocks. But he would not have any of it and with a gleam in his eyes, picked her up and she wound her arms tightly around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist as he attempted to carry her gracefully the short distance to the shower.</p><p> </p><p>The friction was practically unbearable and she slipped down his waist and stood back on wobbly legs at their destination. The way he looked at her still made her heart beat out of her chest and gave her a tingly, tight feeling, but it was when he gently removed her hairband, loosening her bun and tenderly stroked her long waves that made her choke up. She kissed him, sweetly, having missed the smell and taste of him and the feeling of his hand tangling with hers, her fingers smoothing over his calloused ones.</p><p> </p><p>He had her buttons open quickly and the shirt discarded, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the skin of her abdomen, making goosebumps ripple across her back and arms. Her hands had slipped under his long sleeve Henley, unabashedly running her fingers over the skin of his belly and up to the faint hair over his chest, tugging the shirt upwards and trying to get him to cooperate and bow down and lift his arms so she could pull it over his head while he was trying to work her bra off.</p><p> </p><p>She’d pressed up against his naked torso, her fingers pulling his head into a kiss, running her fingers through his unruly front mop, tracing his hairline and feeling the stubble of his beard, but unexpectedly falling down to his hips, groaning heavily as she put her hand down his pants, tugging his cock out and half pushing the flannel over his buttocks, grabbing them again and rubbing the length of her much smaller body against his larger one.</p><p> </p><p>“Jeez, babe.” He groaned into her, his voice heavy with desire and she felt her desire course through her when his thumbs settled on the bones of her hips, drifting over the edge of her tight-fitting pants and pulling her belt open and tugging on the zipper until she grew impatient and worked them off herself, stepping out of them quickly, turning on the spray of water, waiting a moment until it reached a decent temperature while he pressed herself against her, running his hands up her sides, cupping her breasts and breathing heavily against her neck.  </p><p> </p><p>She stepped into the shower and he followed instantly, resuming the sensuous caresses of her torso, kissing and nipping at her neck as he moved her hair to the side for a moment. He brushed past her, grabbing her lavender scented shower gel and started rubbing it into her skin, giving her neck and aching muscles after a long drive a gentle massage until his hands dropped down, lathering her hips and thighs and spreading soapy bubbles over her mound, cupping her sex, his fingers slipping between her folds, caressing her and rubbing her clit, whispering a “You’re so beautiful” into her hair.</p><p> </p><p>She moaned, grabbing his other hand and guiding it up to her breast, pressing her now soapy body against him and he held her tightly, dry (well <em>wet</em>) humping her as he furiously rubbed her clit, bringing them both to a fast release. He was breathing heavily, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as she leaned back into him, turning around and soaping him up until she leaned her head backwards until her hair was submerged in the spray of water and when his breathing evened out, he’d grabbed her shampoo and washed her hair, gently, massaging her scalp.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.” She happily whispered into his kiss and he mumbled a happy “Love you too.” They eventually turned off the water, the bathroom appropriately steamed up, dried off and quickly drifted off into an exhausted, <em>satisfied</em> sleep, limbs loosely tangled, hands entwined.</p><p> </p><p>The night brought a sprinkling of small flakes of snow, dusting the treetops and grass and they enjoyed a relaxed weekend and each other up North. Lise was busy rustling around the kitchen, making a batch of cookies and joined John, who was on the couch, his glasses on his nose, reading a book on woodworking with great concentration as she was perusing the weekend paper. She almost forgot to tell him about her brief encounter with Jerry, but submitted her application soon after they were back in Toronto.</p><p> </p><p>They did end up spending the Christmas holidays in Algonquin Bay with Lise being able to get away early and arrive a few days before Christmas. The snow had started falling more heavily, leaving a deep snow cover over everything, the snow clearing efforts not quite being able to keep up with the winter storms. And it was as if the snow had laid a blanket of silence over the case, with no new evidence it stopped being the thing they thought and talked about most and she had not heard back from her application after a brief phone call and asking her to come by which had appeared to go well.</p><p> </p><p>They’d had dinner with Jerry and his partner and Kelly had promised to make it up for brunch on Christmas Day – before Lise would need to head back to Toronto and would be working from Boxing Day through New Year’s where John would join her after spending a few days with his daughter up North.</p><p> </p><p>Lise had turned into a Christmas fiend and had decorated <em>everything</em>. But John had to admit – she had taste. She hadn’t gone for the garish Christmas lights and decorations, but the windows had been lit with simple and warm lights, white stars and silver tinsel. If anything, it was understated and he had to admit that he enjoyed coming home to his decorated apartment and seeing the warmly lit windows from afar and being greeted by the wreath on the door. The only thing that was missing was a Christmas tree and John had wondered, but had not asked.  </p><p> </p><p>She’d tentatively asked if he would be happy to celebrate with have a semi-traditional <em>réveillon </em>on Christmas Eve as she hadn’t made the effort since her parents had both died. He was happy to share her Christmas traditions, and so she spent the day making <em>tourtière</em>, stew and the obligatory <em>bûche</em> with Christmas carols in the background and he hadn’t dared interrupt what seemed like a perfectly orchestrated military operation, but was happy to assist as directed.</p><p> </p><p>She’d said she wanted to have dinner before heading out before midnight (and John had sincerely hoped she was not dragging him to mass – and she was tight-lipped on the subject) and they enjoyed their first Christmas dinner early, enjoying the food and sitting quietly, at ease and at peace with each other and the turn their lives had taken in the last year. When they had headed out later, warm hats, mittens and wrapped up in a thick scarf, he naturally recognized where they were headed, stopping at the turnoff on the main road down to John’s … <em>their</em> … land.</p><p> </p><p>She handed him the snowshoes she’d stowed in the back of the truck and silently wandered the rest of the access road down on them, holding hands. When they got to the clearing, she tugged him towards the frozen lake and towards a smaller fir tree. She was rustling for something in her pockets, producing candle holders and simple white candles they put on the little tree and when they’d lit them, they sat down on a log and watched as their Christmas tree burned brightly in the light of the candles, decorated with only snow. Lise produced a thermos and two small mugs, filling them with Caribou as they sat quietly, Lise leaning into his embrace as they reflected on turns their relationship had taken and looking at where their future would be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, apparently this needs another chapter to tie up loose ends. <br/>Sorry, this story is so all over the place and that it's taking a bit to update. Real life is just bloody exhausting at times and my moodswings do get mirrored in the writing. And somewhere between spending time with the delightful godsons and the draining days at work where I just wanted to crawl into bed and not get up ever again for anything other than coffee, somehow inspiration to bring anything to paper failed me completely. <br/>And then the last couple of days were definitely a (nut)case of "I love mankind, it's people I can't stand" and everyone being super cranky (including myself) ... and fandom and writing was a nice escape and helped getting my thoughts off of the clusterfuck.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Between Frost and Dog Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Final chapter - I'm a little teary-eyed this is coming to an end. Sorry, it's the weirdest mixture of angst and fluff ... which is apparently the only two things my brain truly enjoys producing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lise had returned to Toronto after Christmas and John had followed on New Year’s Eve. The festive season had made way to a new year and with it, the coldest month of the year had arrived with bone-chilling temperatures that were felt through every crack and every window. In early January, temperatures well below freezing, ice fishers had found a body of a young boy in Silent Lake and with it, the no less chilling truth that the killings had not stopped, but they <em>had stopped washing ashore</em>.</p><p>The body was frozen solid and had likely been dumped, maybe as far back as early December. Tissue damage was substantial, quite probably due to repeated cycles of thawing and freezing, but the angry red ligature marks around the neck and the arms and legs were in stark contrast to the rest of the translucent white body and <em>well preserved</em>.</p><p>And Lise <em>buckled down</em>. She threw herself into the case with fierce determination – but not like before. She made an effort – to sleep decent hours, to eat properly. And she crawled into bed with John at night and he was her anchor, her lifeline to the living. He helped out, consulted when it made sense. He observed the autopsy with her.</p><p>The ice had preserved evidence that had probably washed away on the other bodies. There were threads left in the ligature marks, most likely from rope made from hemp fibers. Not unusual, but then, also not quite as abundant as rope mad synthetic from synthetics. There was extensive bruising, to the ribs, thighs and buttocks. More importantly, there had been bruising on the left arm, with a pattern of four oval shapes on the outside of the arm and a larger oval shape on the inside. A hand print.</p><p>And they canvassed the shore, up and down the lakeside. The well trodden paths. And the less well trodden. And they found tire tracks. It might have been meaningless, but they tracked them down anyway. The circumstances were unusual, a back road, one that wouldn’t have been used by ice fishers, just off the highway, but far enough into the woods that one was unlikely to be observed from any nearby houses. It was a make of winter tires commonly found on Tesla’s Model X … and all the evidence had pointed to an electric car. The tread barely worn. Either a new car – or one with perfectly new winter tires. Given the limited range of the car, they were looking at an owner in the greater Toronto area. If it was connected.</p><p>Day after day, they were chasing down owners, when their other cases allowed. Until finally, Lise struck gold. There was something that felt off. Too affluent for someone in their early 30s. Arrogant. Narcissistic. Cocky. She couldn’t shake the feeling. Like a dog that had caught a whiff of something in the undergrowth.</p><p>John was reading in bed that night when Lise crawled in, feet cold even after a long and hot shower. She was often too tired, and would just enjoy his presence and warmth while he had his nose stuck in a book. Sometimes she asked him to read whatever he was reading, or she was just lost in her own thoughts. Sometimes on the couch, with his head resting on her belly and she would absentmindedly caress his arm or his chest, while lost in her own thoughts or not thinking anything at all. Not that night. John had assumed her mind was on the case. He could tell from the minute she’d come home. She had all of the markings of a bloodhound hot on the trail of something.</p><p>After a while, the restlessness of her mind quite evident, she spoke up.</p><p>“I’ve been thinking…” she trailed off, her thoughts not quite formed yet. Not quite sure how to broach the subject.</p><p>“About? The case?”</p><p>“Yes. And no.” She paused, picking up a stray thought. “Not really. You remember … when I was late?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. I just figured… I’d let you… figure things out.”</p><p>“I haven’t really been thinking about it, you know? It just hit me today, I think.”</p><p>“What did?”</p><p>“That this world, what we see of it? It’s really horrible. And the thought of putting a child into a world where a creep like that exists?”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. With everything that Kelly has gone through … I’d understand if …”</p><p>“It just got me thinking. Why put a child into the world, when there’s so many that could use protecting?” She paused. “I haven’t really thought about it, you know. But maybe … we could just look into … fostering?”</p><p>John was silent for a long time, his own thoughts ruminating, processing what she had proposed. “Yeah.” And with all the gravity he could muster, he affirmed. “Yeah. I could see that.” He kissed her, gently, reverently and they were quiet afterwards and she drifted off, tucked into him, while he continued reading his book.</p><p>Everything after that was a blur. The pace of the investigation kicked into high gear. Lise had put a patrol car on the suspect. It was on the 6<sup>th</sup> night, just before her commanding officer was about to pull surveillance, when the suspect drove off in the middle of the night. He drove off to a remote cabin. There wasn’t anything suspicious per se, other than the late night … and he seemed to be preparing for something.</p><p>The next night, after the previous night’s report, Lise was on surveillance with the patrol car. Again, the car took off way past midnight and just stopped on car pool parking lot, sitting there for quite a while. They couldn’t pull up without raising suspicion, so they circled back around, trying to see in the dark from the opposite side of the highway. At 2:30am, a delivery van pulled up, stopping close by. They couldn’t see anything with the van blocking their view of what transpired, but they tried to follow the car afterwards, without raising suspicion. The young Constable with her that night called for backup when they entered the road that he had followed the driver the night before. The driver dragged something out towards his cabin, when they turned on their headlights and asked him to stand down over the speaker.</p><p>There was no noise. Only the crackling of the ice and the running of the car. The sound of the bullet pierced the quiet winter night. They took cover behind the doors of the unmarked police car and she fired back at the retreating form of their suspect. It was impossible to see in the dark. Chasing after him, she got off several shots and took cover when she needed to reload her gun. In the cold and dark winter night, she heard the bullet fired and the muffled sound of crunching bone, but didn’t realize she’d been shot until she felt an iron taste in her mouth. She was chasing after the suspect, firing off another round of bullets and tackling the suspect, cuffing him, before she went down and lost consciousness.</p><p>She didn’t come to until more than 24 hours later, in the ICU, thirsty, lips cracked, and the heavy weight of Cardinal’s head resting on her leg. She was disoriented, but couldn’t quite make out why they had let him stay way past visiting hours, but vaguely recalled someone shouting “Where’s my wife!” in the hallway. She’d been wearing her vest, but the bullet had penetrated just above the vest’s upper edge, nicking her collarbone, but missing any major arteries. She stroked his hair, not sure she should wake him, but his sleep was apparently not deep, and he stirred awake quickly.</p><p>“Are you awake?” He whispered.</p><p>“Yeah.” she rasped, throat and lips dry and he grabbed her a cup with water, a straw and some ice chips.</p><p>“You scared me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be. You got the guy.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah. There was a 12 year old boy in the back of that car. You saved his life.”</p><p>“Good.” She sighed with relief. “Good.” And fell asleep again before long.</p><p>She was in the hospital for a few weeks, but was moved from the ICU after a few days. Her heroics had made the news and she’d been fending calls left and right. John had overheard more than a few, but there was a particular one, from OPD, that they had both been waiting for. “You got the job?” He asked, when she’d ended the call. “Yeah.” She replied, with a surprised smile on her face. “I’m coming home.”</p><p>The paperwork for her transfer had gone through before she left the hospital. After she was released, she was put on administrative leave until she had fully recovered. Time she naturally spent with John. She was supposed to be resting, and not being allowed to help made her antsy, but John made her watch him putter about the cabin, starting to put in the large windows facing the lakeside.</p><p>The days had started growing longer, the sun getting stronger once again and the ground thawing underneath their feet. The first snowdrops and crocuses had started pushing through the almost frozen earth, occasionally still covered in the snow, that continued to melt away in the bright sun. And while John was building their <em>home</em>, Lise had reached out to the Children’s Aid society, submitted their application and had signed them up for the requisite training program.</p><p>By early May, Lise had returned back to active duty – in her new role in the OPD. She complained about the paperwork and the long office hours, but she also seemed equal parts content and driven. And John, while he would never admit it, was grateful that she didn’t see quite as much action anymore. He never doubted her ability to protect herself or her skills in the field, but she was also far better at the politics involved than he had ever been. She was a brilliant investigator, but she was also an excellent leader – and if that kept her behind her desk and in meeting rooms, he wasn’t going to complain.</p><p>They moved into the cabin by mid-May, though much was still unfinished. They would continue cooking on a camping stove for two more months until the utilities all worked and they had furnished the cabin, after they had just moved their bed, table and sofa at first. John had suggested they get a dog, so he would have some company when she want back to work. And John had been the one to find the crossbreed between a Dalmatian and a Labrador and had brought the puppy home and seemed to even rejoice getting up in the middle of the night for the little critter.</p><p>And by summer, it had truly started feeling like a home and while Cardinal was still finishing, smoothing, sanding, sealing (and taking their puppy on longer and longer walks) - Lise had started on getting a small garden set up. She was still supposed to take it easy, so Cardinal helped with the heavy digging and she started planting some easy vegetables and flowers. In late summer, they got a call from Children’s Aid Society that was looking to place a 14 year old boy. They came for a home visit, reviewed their new living situation and were happy with the stability they would be able to provide and the boy came to live with them.</p><p>Little did they know that there had been another life forming, another small human being that would come into their lives and that, within the span of less than 12 months, they would go from becoming puppy parents, to becoming foster parents to becoming <em>grandparents</em>. But they took to that as they had to everything else in their life since that fateful last case. John, practically finished with the cabin, had simply started with building a crib for his grandson ... and Lise took up knitting, which was surprisingly good for taking her mind off of work and her new responsibilities. It had only been a year since their first Christmas together - and when it had just been them for Christmas Eve, a year later the number of souls around their table had tripled... and it seemed, their happiness and love had grown exponentially, but felt more solid and natural than ever. And the tradition they had started would live on for many, many years as the fir tree grew tall and proud, roots deep, and providing shade in summer, opening its cones in fall, dusted with snow in winter and with its light green tips announcing spring and the beginning of another year.</p>
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